


Blood is Relative

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: the Squib Universe [1]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family, Gen, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dad always said my voice was like magic, that I got it from his side… It wasn’t until much later that I realized exactly what he meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood is Relative

‘ _Are all your family wizards?’ asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him._

‘ _Er – yes, I think so,’ said Ron. ‘I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.’_

– _Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_ by J. K. Rowling (chapter six, pg. 110)

-o0o-

Dad always said my voice was like magic. That I got it from his side – despite the fact that he sounded a bit more like a honking goose when he sang than a songbird. I always took it like a joke – and a compliment. It wasn’t until much later that I realized exactly what he’d meant by that.

I love my parents more than anything in the world. Even my career. They and my younger brother were my entire world for so long. When I went out into the world on my own they were the rock that kept me tethered to the ground.

But before I went out into the big wide world, Dad told me something. Something about his family.

When Neil and I were growing up  Dad never said much about  _that_ side of the family. The estranged side who never made contact with us, supposedly never even  _talked_ about us. There wasn’t anything wrong with that family, they were just…  _different_ , Dad said.

The bulk of t his family lived in Britain.

It turns out that dad’s grandparents , my great-grandparents, were British. They had moved to the States shortly after their marriage where they’d had Grandmother Lambert (formerly Prewett) and her siblings. We never had much contact with any of them. For some reason they’d always seemed to look down on us whenever we did come around. Even Dad’s siblings were a bit distant with us – all through growing up it was like they didn’t know what to do with us when we visited.

Shortly after graduating high school Dad told me why.

Dad’s family was completely comprised of witches and wizards – the real kind that could actually perform magic. They were a pureblood line that could trace their magical lineage back to the time of Merlin, and had never had a non-magical person (or squib) in their line… until Dad.

The Noble House of Prewett was a distinguished line, one that descended from the secondary lines of a few of the Ancient and Noble lines – the primary lines being the lines of succession, or firstborn sons, who were the ones that inherited the family names and bulk of the fortunes of the Ancient lines. Great-grandfather Prewett was the eldest son of five siblings and therefore the current Heir to the Prewett line. His eldest daughter married Grandfather Lambert and had three children – the second being Eber Lambert (or Dad). Being a squib he was considered an embarrassment to the family and encouraged to live in the muggle world (the non-magic world) away from magical relatives.

Grandmother and Grandfather Lambert weren’t cruel about it, though. Some magical families disown squib children. But they supported Dad and made sure he could become self-sufficient in the muggle world before letting him move away from the family. Irritatingly they always think Dad’s an accountant, though I have to admit it is easier just to go with it than try to explain what he actually does to a bunch of wizards.

As surprising as all this information was to me, it was nothing  compared to the shock I got when my parents explained the circumstances surrounding  _my_ birth.

When Dad was about twenty-seven and Mom about twenty-four they were contacted by Dad’s second cousin Molly. Molly’s father was the youngest sibling of Great-grandfather Prewett, and therefore Molly was Grandmother Lambert’s first cousin. She was about a year or so older than Dad.

A war had been waging in wizarding Britain for years and it had been brought to an abrupt halt over a year before when the terrorist that led the opposing side had been mysteriously destroyed. Their society, however, was still in complete discord in the aftermath of the war. Molly had recently given birth to her and her husband’s, eighth child – their eldest had recently turned ten and would be going to a wizarding school the following year.

The reason for Molly contacting her estranged cousin all the way in the States was simple: the child was a squib.

 _I_ was a squib… I  _am_ a squib.

And while the Lamberts are my blood relatives, they aren’t my biological parents.

My biological parents are British wizards and I currently have six older siblings – five brothers and one sister. And they’re all magical.

My father, Arthur Weasley, works in the British Ministry of Magic in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. My mother, Molly, is a housewife who dotes on her grandchildren all day.

My eldest brother, Bill Weasley, is a curse-breaker for a wizarding bank and is married to a French witch name Fleur. They have four children, all magical.

My second brother, Charlie Weasley, is a dragon tamer in Romania. From what I’ve heard he’s still single – and from everything I’ve heard of him I get the feeling he’s also gay.

My third brother, Percy Weasley, has been the Junior Undersecretary for the British Minister of Magic for about sixteen years. He and his wife have two children, also both magical.

My forth brother, George Weasley, owns a magical joke shop he’d started almost fifteen years ago with his twin, Fred, who died two years later in the “Final Battle” of their last war. He and his wife should have at least one child by now, which I assume is also magical as I haven’t heard much about it yet.

My fifth brother, Ron Weasley – who is two years older than me – is the assistant manager for a Quidditch team (Quidditch being wizard’s sport played on flying brooms). It’s the worst team in the league, as far as I know, and from what I remember their uniform is the most obnoxious shade of orange I’ve ever seen… Ron must fit right in. His muggleborn wife, Hermione, was one of his best friends in school. (Muggleborns are reverse squibs: magical people born from non-magical families.) They have two magical children.

Finally, my sister, Ginny Potter – one year older than me – is married to the often proclaimed “Boy-Who-Lived”, Harry Potter. Last I heard the two were living comfortably off the Potter fortune with their three magical children. Though I’ve also heard rumours about Harry writing some sort of self-defence books.

I’ve seen a couple pictures of my former family , though I’ve never actually met any of them before. My biological father has been sending photos and letters every few years since I was informed of my true heritage. This is the reason I am able to recognize the red-head in the bar I am currently at with my band and a number of my dancers. We are in London for a concert as part of my first world tour. I also recognize the black-haired man with glasses next to him.

They must also recognize me as the black-haired guy taps my brother on the shoulder and points me out. The two wander over to me as I take  a shot at the bar.

“Hi, I’m Harry Potter,” the black-haired guy introduces himself. “This is Ron Weasely,” he indicates my brother.

“Adam Lambert,” I shake their hands.

“You’re that American bloke from that concert yesterday, aren’t you?” Ron asks.

I nod and raise an eyebrow. For some reason it doesn’t surprise me that Ron doesn’t know of our family relationship. The slight sting at that realization surprises me.

“I’m truly sorry to bother you, but our daughters would kill us if we didn’t get your autograph,” Harry grins apologetically. “They absolutely love you.”

“The kids aren’t old enough to get in, but our wives went to your concert,” Ron explained. I can’t help but find this interesting. The mental picture that comes to mind of my older sister and sister-in-law screaming at one of my shows like a couple of fan girls is quite funny. I figure Hermione being muggleborn has something to do with them knowing anything about me.

“No problem,” I grin. “Got anything I can sign?” I try not to laugh as they remove two photos of me from their jacket pockets. Harry also hands over a gold metallic Sharpie. I’m thinking they knew I was going to be here, possibly even used their magic to ensure they got this close to me. Using the back of his shoulder I sign the photos and hand them back. As I turn and walk away I notice their shocked eyes snap sharply back to my face after reading the personalized autographs – one reading _“To Lily”_ , the other _“To Rose”_. I quickly make my way back over to my band and order another round of shots.

Later in my hotel room I am standing in the bathroom in front of a large mirror, washing the make-up from my face.  I watch with blue eyes as a dusting of freckles emerges on my face. Once finished I inspect my hairline where I can see traces of my natural red colour growing back in. I’ll need to touch it up soon.

Most, if not all, people think I dye my hair black as a fashion statement. While that is also true, there is a more personal reason that I cover my natural colour – just as I cover the freckles with make-up. The truth is I do it because every time I look in the mirror and see the red locks in my hairline, every time I see the freckles on my face, I’m reminded of where I came from.

Every time I see the true image in the mirror, I’m reminded of why they left me.

\- 30 -

**Author's Note:**

> This actually wasn’t originally intended to be quite so cynical, but I quite like how it turned out.
> 
> I know I made Adam sound a bit jaded in regards to magic (or being magical). But all things considered, I think it would be expected given how he and his Dad were treated by their magical family. Even more so for Adam as his actually abandoned him because he was a squib – regardless of the fact that they gave him to a relative.
> 
> Genetically speaking (in this fic), this makes Adam and Eber are 3rd cousins as they share the same great-grandparents (Molly’s grandparents). It sounds weird, I know, but Molly and Eber being about the same age isn’t odd for 2nd cousins. In my family, my youngest Aunt is only a few years older than my oldest cousin; and my youngest 1st cousins are either the same age or younger than my oldest 2nd cousins. (the one that’s younger isn’t even my youngest aunt’s kid either… Heck, I even have 1st cousins who are younger than some of my 3rd cousins – these ones are all infants at present.)


End file.
